


Love is a chemical (straight from your genitals)

by Xyriath



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Extremely Dubious Consent, Gang Rape, Multi, Oviposition, Sex Pollen, Size Kink, Xenophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-06-26
Packaged: 2019-05-28 18:18:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15054989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xyriath/pseuds/Xyriath
Summary: When cornered, an Altean has one last defense mechanism.Only, it doesn't go exactly how Allura had hoped.





	Love is a chemical (straight from your genitals)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Voltron Xenophilia Zine

Allura had known that using an Altean’s last defense was always risky. That it could go terribly wrong, or even not work at all—so to never, ever consider it something to rely on to remain safe. So she never had, and had hoped never to need it.

After all, releasing a pheromone that triggered an insatiable need to mate in the one who had released it was, by its nature, notoriously dicey.

It wasn’t infallible, either: it didn’t work on everything, only those that already had the desire to do so, in some amount, and generally only saw effectiveness when the one releasing it was in danger: as far as Allura understood, it worked by channeling aggressiveness and transforming it into that desire, only working noticeably on targets that were angry or hostile. And it saw absolutely no effect if anyone hit by it had indifference towards the prospect of sex with the Altean.

In practice, this almost always meant that those exposed would turn on each other: one set desperate to rut, the other with intentions to harm, and the former usually saw the latter as a threat to their goal. In the ensuing chaos, the Altean usually managed to get away.

But that theory, for some reason, did not seem to be holding up. Not with dozens of hostile aliens cornering her in a cave on an unknown planet, leaving her with nowhere to run, and despite having released a wave of pheromones, they only watched her hungrily.

“They want her alive,” one of them growled, a giant purebred Galra of the furred variety that the paladins teasingly called “catlike.” But there was nothing teasing about this now.

“We’ll leave her alive,” came the reply, this one from a reptilian species that Allura didn’t recognize, watching her with hunger in its cold, black eyes set over a long snout. “And we’ll bring her in. When we’re finished.”

The words seemed to unfreeze her from where she had been rooted to the spot, and she bolted, ducking under the arm of the unfurred one, gasping—

But something darted out, snagging around her ankle, and pulled, sending her tumbling to the ground and her head smacking against the stone of the cavern. Before she could so much as catch her breath, let alone stand, another something wrapped around her waist, hauling her upward.

Her hands seized onto the appendage, but with a sinking sensation, she realized that it was a Throlian’s tail. She might as well have been restrained by a band of steel.

“Block her off!” came yet another voice, and she spotted bodies shifting, the small circle of light at the end of the tunnel shrinking, and she knew that even if she were to get free of her restraints, she was trapped.

Fear jolted through her, sharp and encompassing, and she gripped the tail yet again, trying to find purchase. It refused to budge.

The Throlian’s third tail wedged underneath the plates of her armor, and they began to drop to the stone floor. First those on her legs, then her hips, and then the tails switched off to pry off the armor above that. She tried to grab on, to stop it with an alarmed gasp, but its strength proved too much for her to even budge it.

The first tail, still on her ankle, wound up her leg, and with another jolt of fear, she realized that it was easily splitting open her undersuit as it nudged closer to between her legs. As it pressed up against her cunt, something else jolted through her as well something distinctly different from but oddly enhanced by the fear.

 _You will get out of this_ , she told herself firmly, doing her best to tamp down that fear. This defense existed for a reason, and all she needed to do was get through—

The tail pushed up further, rubbing, stroking, and Allura gasped again at the slow slide of pleasure that curled up through her abdomen.

—and perhaps she could at least enjoy it while it lasted.

The tail split the suit across her crotch, exposing it to the air, and with a shiver, she realized that her body had already made the decision for her, a slick fluid coating the sides of her thighs and the tail as it dragged against her, between her lips, coating itself as it stroked her intimately.

“I get her first!” came a snarl from behind her, and she recognized the voice as belonging to the furred Galra, who was presumably in charge. The tail hesitated, but continued to stroke, though it didn’t press in any further. The other continued to undress her, sending scraps of clothing fluttering to the ground until she dangled, naked and exposed, for all her captors to see.

“Over here,” growled the leader, and Allura found herself tossed onto a surprisingly soft spot in the back of the cave, then restrained again, the tails capturing her wrists and binding them together up above her head.

Moss, she thought distantly, as a large purple form loomed in the corners of her vision. That was what was so soft.

One of the tails grabbed her ankle again, and this time, she didn’t resist. It yanked her leg outward as a purple clawed hand did the same with the other, gripping hard enough to bruise.

Her eyes focused on the feline features in front of her, glowing yellow eyes narrowed with anticipation, fixed between her legs.

A thick, purple finger, claws blessedly retracted, shoved inside her, meeting no resistance, and she cried out, arching into it.

“You can’t wait for this, can you?” the Galra growled, sounding eager himself as he curled the finger, sending pleasure surging through her. “Altean slut. We’ll fuck you good, then when we get back, we’ll turn you into a _proper_ breeding slave.”

The promise rippled through her, darkly appealing, and for a moment, she wished she could give in, acquiesce to the prospect: a life of pleasure and luxury, never having to worry about the fate of the universe again.

But she shook it away, knowing that she could never allow it. By the time she returned to her senses, the Galra leader had pulled his cock out from the armor and had begun to stroke himself with slow anticipation, beads of light purple precome spreading from the tip.

Allura shuddered. While she had had a fling or two with Galra before, it had been long before everything happened, brief dalliances with friends to the Alteans.

And none of them had been so _huge._

The Galra grinned viciously at whatever he must have seen on her face, then released her leg. She let it fall to the side, no longer fighting as he lifted a hand to paw at her breast, the rough treatment of the sensitive skin leaving her gasping—

The Galra thrust into her without any further warning, and she screamed as he split her open. She hadn’t been wrong about its size; if anything, she had underestimated it. It filled her, she thought, nearly to the point of breaking, a dizzying mix of pleasure and pain that had her craving more.

The villi inside her cunt reacted only with unabashed delight at the intrusion, the tiny tendrils stretching and latching onto the cock, pulling it further in. With a groan of pleasure at the sensation, the Galra withdrew, the motion dragging the spines of the cock against her. Though it came with some pain, it still delighted her body, the stimulation leaving the villi writhing inside, pressing up against the Galra, demanding more.

She cried out and arched as he thrust in again, other hand reaching up to fondle her breast as well. It was a huge hand, able to cup the entire thing with no trouble, and she could feel the stiff peak of the nipple pressing up into his hand and she wanted _more_ —

A pair of lips seized hers, tongue thrusting into her mouth, and by now, she was too far gone to do anything but kiss back desperately.

The Galra fucked her ruthlessly, using her like some kind of object, like a toy. _Like a breeding slave._ In the distance, she could hear catcalls, cheers, laughter, but she quickly decided that she didn’t care, casting away her mortification to arch greedily into the massive cock, arching it deeper, feeling every spine and ridge and unique texture with excruciating sensitivity. She was slick enough that the Galra met with no resistance, and his hands wandered down to her hips to yank them up towards his with every thrust, leaving her jolting with a brutality that shook her to her very bones.

It didn’t take much more of the ruthless use to coax her to the edge, to send her crashing over in a wave of pleasure with a gasping scream. She moaned through the orgasm, she writhed, she hooked her free ankle around his waist and pulled him closer.

He thrust into her one last time, shuddering, and a tingling warmth filled her abdomen, leaving her at once satisfied and aching for more. This, she knew from experience: enough Galra semen over a long period of time would eventually turn the recipient into an addict, desperate enough for more to do nearly anything.

But she wouldn’t let it get that far. She could handle this.

He finally withdrew, grunting, and she caught sight of his cock, limp but still even larger than she had thought, and a brief moment of realization flitted through her: _that was just inside me._

But he moved on soon after, allowing the next to take his place.

The reptilian species she hadn’t identified earlier stepped forward, cold eyes raking slowly over her and taking in the sight. She burned with arousal and shame, knowing what he must see: her breasts rising and falling as she heaved in breath, eyes glazed with pleasure, pale purple Galra come that glowed faintly as it spilled out from her cunt, smearing her thighs.

The sides of his mouth curved up, and clawed hands reached down to free himself from his armor.

The dull red cock that sprang free had what looked like dozens of small but pronounced bumps on it, but it wasn’t nearly as big as the Galra’s from before. She watched it intently, wondering how it was going to feel, a bit relieved at the size—

But a moment later, he tugged the armor away, revealing another identical one of the same size. Both strained forward in a V-shape, leaking some kind of liquid, and he stroked them briefly before thrusting forward, burying himself in her.

He stretched her just as wide as the Galra—perhaps even wider, with the two of them at the same time. The bumps pressed up against her, the sensation almost electric, and she cried out again, the villi inside her still as sensitive and desperate as she was. The pleasure began to build yet again, dragging her under, and she let go.

He used her, brutally and thoroughly, and she took as much pleasure in that as she did of the rough rubbing within her cunt. Something jostled her head, and it took a moment for her to realize that she was being straddled. When her eyes fluttered open, they were met with a cunt that filled her vision, dripping and eager. What had to be the clitoris had extended, nearly close enough to brush Allura’s lips.

Without hesitating, she opened her mouth, tongue dragging up the underside.

This drew a cry from the alien above her, and they promptly ground forward, grinding against Allura’s mouth with such ferocity that she nearly choked. But still, she continued to lick, moving her lips, the taste foreign and salty and her jaw beginning to ache as the cunt extended, clamping down on her cheeks even as the other alien continued to abuse Allura’s own cunt.

The pleasure as she came again was as sloppy and messy as her mouth, and the alien inside her flooded her with hot come soon after.

She whimpered into the cunt riding her face when the cocks pulled roughly out of her--the motion hurt some, yes, but it was more their absence that distressed her. But she didn’t have to wait long: the Throlian’s tail had returned, sliding into her with a practiced ease.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she remembered that those tails were used for reproduction, too, but she didn’t let it worry her: the same pheromones that she had released earlier rendered her infertile for days.

So she spread her legs for the tail to have its way with her, curling and writhing within, the villi drawing it deeper. Above her, the alien riding her tensed, crying out, and with a shudder, released something hot and salty into Allura’s mouth. After a few moments, they pulled back, and another took their place, demanding pleasure from Allura’s mouth yet again.

Allura lost count of how many there were who used her cunt, her mouth, her ass. Exhaustion and pleasure kept her limp, and she didn’t even have the energy to summon alarm when the tentacle of some alien she hadn’t recognized within her bulged—and the bulge pushed further in, and further—

Eggs, she thought distantly, in a haze of pleasure and pain as she was forced open, again and again, the heaviness in her abdomen enough to send another course of pleasure rocking through her.

Three of her orgasms later, the Galra rutting into her grunted, came, and then—stopped.

There were a few moments where Allura was crushed by her heavy form, having difficulty breathing, but she realized that the tail around her wrists had loosened. She shook them off and reached down to shove the Galra off of her with a grunt. She slumped to the side, and Allura could see, when she focused, that her eyes were closed.

Ah. Finally, the final part of the Altean’s defense.

Allura shakily pushed herself up, grabbing onto the cave wall for support when she nearly fell. She looked around as her breath came in ragged pants.

All of them lay on the ground. Unconscious. Not a single one had known what sex with an Altean could do to you, if they so chose.

Allura had a couple vargas, at least; she could afford to take a few moments to regain her ability to walk again—and _not_ think too hard about what had just happened.

Once that was complete, she staggered over to where her armor lay, fitting it back over herself with trembling fingers. The torso piece barely fit, with the eggs heavy in her abdomen, and the thought sent a tired thrill through her. Something to worry about later—if she needed to at all. The castle would tell her if they were in danger of hatching. But if not…

She wondered how long she would be able to keep them in, how soon she could excuse herself to be alone once they returned. She wondered how it would feel if she pressed down on them, if she would be able to feel them shift, if she would ache for more—

She shook herself, focusing. The helmet went on last: to all appearances, she looked as professional and poised as ever.

Allura pressed the communicator button.

“Paladins, I’m breaking radio silence to let you know that I’ve incapacitated the guard station. Prepare for egress.”

“Great work, Allura!” came a cheerful voice—Pidge’s, Allura realized. “Coming in now!”

“Wonderful,” she replied, professional and calm. No one would ever know.

But _she_ would. Know, and remember.


End file.
